Today has always been hard, but this year is worse. I always thought I’d give you siblings & they would help remembering you to be less painful. It never occurred to me that I would be reliving your loss over & over again. I hope they’re with you. I wish you were all with me. I’ll always love you.
It’s been a hectic week. I did some utterly lovely things & some necessary tedious things. Predictably by Friday is was unable to move. Still in recovery mode, but it was worth it.
I kicked things off with a wee hotel stay on Monday. My sis, the baba & I enjoyed a couple of days of chilling out (& carrying on) at the Westerwood Doubletree. The boy loved the pool and just like his auntie, he is a fan of a hotel breakfast. The grown ups did some relaxing and then undid it all by watching Chernobyl. Amazing tv, but quite possibly the most terrifying thing I have ever viewed.
I had to do a little trek to Gourock, which turned out to be a lot prettier than I remembered. Then hopped on the ferry to Dunoon, which although quaint was much less interesting than I recalled. I did however enjoy the fresh air & the (almost) sea air.
Hump day saw me buzzing from hospital to hospital to attend various clinics. I had my first go at a new treatment, dome boring maintenance & a whole lot of waiting around. Such is spoonie life.
Ootd wise I seem unable to kick my yellow habit this week. Clearly I am seeking a little extra cheer; yellow tones fit the bill.
Thursday I was back to rascalling with the boy. We did all our messages & fed some birds before checking out the suspension bridge. I used to be a little scared of them, but I’m so attracted to their splendour that I cowboyed up. The boy was delighted with all he could survey from the bridge. Ducks on the water, trains on the bigger bridge & especially our new tiger friend.
By Friday my body had decided it’d had enough activity. I could barely get out of bed. I did the resting thing. Saturday was more of the same. Today I finally made into the bath, fresh jammies & onto the sofa for a cuddle with my cat. I even managed to owing my nails before retreating back to bed. Go me.
It’s been a good week. I did some lovely things and took a bunch of photos along the way. Today I’m sitting still in my jammies and recovering from the fun.
The sun came out. I wore some jelly shoes. Celebrated my favourite old man’s birthday & enjoyed my tiniest boy’s first day on the farm.
In truth I enjoyed the farm as much as the baba. How can you not love Pygmy goats & giant donkeys?
I dressed up pretty & wore naked ladies on my nails. I bought myself some flowers and found the most amazing knickers from Wilde Mode.
I am enjoying the clear blue skies & fiery sunsets. I have high hopes for a good summer.
I’m off to an excellent start with doing things that make me feel good. After months of things getting in the way I managed to get a last minute tattoo appointment.
The whole tattoo process makes me feel kinda wonderful. I love the sensation; it’s a nice pain, if there is such a thing. I adore the results even more. My tattoos are mostly words that stir me. The latest addition follows that theme.
It’s a little section of e e Cummings’ In The Rain. I’ve wanted these words on my skin for a long time. They’re beautiful and touch many of my sensitive spots. Cummings has always made my heart thump and it’s amazing to carry his genius with me.
I can’t praise True Colour Tattoo enough. It’s such a warm, friendly studio with incredibly talented artists. Chrisse was super lovely and her work is fantastic. Bring tattooed by a woman always improves my experience.
This is my first colour tattoo. I swithered about it, but green was definitely the right way to go. The tattoo is gorgeous. It’s aided a tiny bit of healing. Oh & it’s helping me tick off one of my 40 before 40. Not bad for a spontaneous Wednesday decision.
I knew Mother’s Day was going to be tough this year. Since I always over think every little thing, I did spend some time dwelling on that in the run up to Sunday. Occasionally my inability to switch my thoughts off serves me well, this was just such an instance.
It didn’t change how sad I felt, but I did stumble upon a new strategy. Simply put, I’m going to try my damnedest to have more fun. My life is not really all that easy (who’s is?). There’s a lot of pain, exhaustion, stress & large scale disappointment. None of which I can control. I’ve had to make some huge adjustments in my life expectations this year and that is, well, a process. I can’t change the fundamentals of my situation. I can let go a little bit. I can allow myself to please just me more of the time and I am going to.
I’m going to date. For fun, god help me. I’m not seeking a soul mate or partner. The aim is merely to find some amusing people I can do enjoyable things with. Hopefully without anyone making too many demands. I’m reviewing all my filed away lists of things I’ve always wanted to do and bloody well jumping on anything that is actually doable. Efforts will be made to ditch the guilt. I’m going to say more no’s to the things I do for the benefits of others that cut me in two. Plus a lot more yes’s to anything & everything that makes me feel good. To hell with the rules or convention. Life is going to fuck me regardless, I might as well squeeze as out as much glee as I can along the way.
With that in mind I began my week with a jaunt to Edinburgh to see my favourite man. Friends who will let you say anything and always leave you feeling better than they found you are magnificent. So, I soaked up too many glasses wine & just enough of his loveliness to give me a major boost. I followed up with the an almost perfect day at the farm. Watching my baby nephew discover the world is a truly beautiful experience. The tiny goats were also worth the trip.
I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck now. It’s going to take some recovery days to get back to ‘normal’. My ratio of doing to resting isn’t what I’d hope for. I’m giving myself permission to use some of those good days for pure frivolity.
I’ve talked about the misguided things that people say in the wake of a miscarriage. Although these things can hurt, I understand that no harm is intended. I’ve been hesitant to tackle the other side, the people who say things they know will cause pain. Try as I might I cannot understand what they gain from this. Bear with me, I’m going to do a little blog therapy.
I can’t believe this has to be said, but here goes. A person’s stance on abortion is not relevant if the have a miscarriage. After my most recent loss it was suggested that my pro choice beliefs made my devastation over the miscarriage incongruous. Actually I think they were insinuating that it was hypocritical of me to grieve the loss of a foetus when I support the right of someone else to terminate one. Let me be clear, I support each individual’s right to choose. My experiences of pregnancy and miscarriage have only strengthened my pro choice convictions. Carrying a pregnancy and giving birth is an undertaking of such enormous magnitude that it should only ever be done willingly. My desire to have a child is not in conflict with my refusal to deny others bodily autonomy. I don’t want or need an abortion, but I will fight for those who do. Using that against me at my most vulnerable moment is cruel. Choice is the operative word. I had no choice in losing my wanted pregnancies. My dead babies are not a debating point. Attempting to litigate how upset a person is permitted to be is disgusting.
Equally repugnant and heartbreaking was the proffering of surprise that I would be hit so hard by a fourth miscarriage. The reasoning being that I should have expected it may happen (I did of course) and that I should have become hardened to it by now. I can’t comprehend the lack of empathy it would take to think such a thing let alone say it loud. I don’t understand how one comes to the conclusion that reliving the worst time of your life over and over would make it easier. I can’t understand how anyone would imagine that having a worst fear realised is any less awful because you knew it could happen. Forcing someone to defend their distress is cruel in a way that must be deliberate.
I also wanted to touch on a group of platitudes that are offered frequently. Variations of ‘everything happens for a reason’, ‘god moves in mysterious ways’ or ‘it’s a blessing in disguise’ are never ok. I have been repeatedly assured that good intentions lie behind these phrases and I’m calling bullshit on that. They’re just lazy and ignorant remarks. Even a moments thought would uncover how inappropriate it is force your religiosity on someone. If you somehow take comfort in believing that ‘god’ purposefully snuffs out specific unborn that’s bizarre, but your business. To impose those ideas on fragile people in the midst of trauma is wilful ignorance. It is choosing to prioritise your own comfort above that of someone who is suffering.
I’m incredulous that I have to say any of this. It hurts to be forced into these unnecessary conversations. These aren’t blunders, they are examples of selfish agenda pushing. There is no kind reason to pursue these topics. It’s callous & inexcusable. Don’t do it.
The universe is determined to give me opportunities to discover social faux pas. The events of the last weeks have revealed to me a host of new things that lots of people say when one talks about miscarriage. The vast majority of these comments are very well meant, but nonetheless, have considerably missed the mark.
Being open about having had multiple miscarriages seems to unfurl two main threads of conversation. The most prolific being enquiries as to why it keeps happening and what I have done about it. I think I know why people ask these questions. Partly fear, no one wants this to happen to them. I suppose people think if they know the whys they can avoid it or fix the problem. The other side being an assumption that everything can be fixed. I understand that, we are so used to living in a world where things can be cured or treated. I know from having chronic conditions that people are often confused to learn that some things can not be corrected. In the case or recurrent miscarriage this enquiry is unhelpful for variety of reasons. Firstly miscarriage, recurrent miscarriage and infertility often fall into the category of ‘don’t know’. About half of those who suffer recurrent miscarriage are unable to find a reason after testing. I am one of those people. I have had all the standard tests and investigations to little avail. I did have some adhesions that were successfully removed and I have PCOS, but no Dr I have consulted believes that to be the cause. The short answer is, no one knows. Asking this question isn’t helpful. If a person doesn’t know, you’re just underling that difficult fact by making them explain it again. If they do, they may not want to discuss such private and sensitive information with you or anyone else.
Offshoots of this such as, Have you seen a Dr about this? You should get another opinion, My friend did such & such or surely there must be something they can do, are unwelcome. I have had four miscarriages. I have lost four children that I desperately wanted. Of course I have done everything within my power to find out why and prevent it from happening again. The suggestion that I haven’t offends me. It indicates that you think I am either stupid or careless. I understand that wasn’t the intention, but please, think before you speak. It’s also important to be aware that the NHS usually won’t begin these investigations until after a third miscarriage. Not everyone has the resources to seek private medical treatment. Anyone in that situation doesn’t need nosey salt in their wounds.
The other comments this loss has garnered are of the don’t give up variety. A lot of people have reached out to tell me there’s always hope. The have shared their own experiences of loss or struggles to conceive and assured me that miracles happens. That they eventually had their baby and it was all worth it. I know you think you are helping. I know you are trying to be kind. Let me just say this, not everyone gets a miracle. We are not all able to try again. There are limits to what the body can do, physically & emotionally. There are time constraints. Relationship constraints. Financial constraints. At this moment I don’t feel like I have another try in me. Losing another baby would destroy me. Maybe I will feel differently in the future (it would have to be the fairly near future), but I don’t think so. Facing the reality of my limitations is not weak. Recognising that I can not square this circle is not giving up.
I don’t intend this as an attack. I realise these aren’t purposeful attempts to hurt. I just want to have an open discourse. I think these confusions arise because we don’t talk about this topic enough. If you want to offer support to someone who has suffered this kind of loss it will be appreciated. Simply offering your condolences and assurances that you are available is enough. Respect that everyone grieves differently and your kindness will cherished.